Wednesday, 9 March 2016



I love the Creative Arts.If it's a blank page,I write on it,a blank canvas,I put paint on it,
I see an empty stage,I want actors or dancers on it.Recently,I set myself an Art
challenge.After splashing about with acrylics for years,I wanted to learn to paint
with oils.So,I joined a class with Mary at the Great Lakes Art Gallery
( and,together we explored the basics of oil painting.Ever the
Arty Smarty,I soon tired of my clumsy clouds and wishy- washy water views,and
suggested that I try portraiture.I figured that, after staring at faces for most of my
adult life as a hairstylist,I would know where to put a nose.


My art teacher suggested that I find a photograph,have it blown up,sketch it,
then paint it.I thought that if I was going to all this effort,then I would want the
portrait to be good enough to hang in a Gallery exhibition.It was.


I love this photo of my father as a young soldier from Australia (sunlight on gum leaves),
going off to War in the dark jungles of New Guinea.
There had often been tension between Dad and me,his rebellious,free- spirited.
daughter.However as I drew his likeness and painted the fear in his eyes,I came to
understand that, perhaps, my father's darker side came from the awful experiences
of war.

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